An Intense De La Soul Is Far From Dead At Toad's

November 13, 1991|By ROGER CATLIN; Courant Rock Critic

Toward the end of a 70-minute set Monday night at Toad's Place in New Haven, De La Soul was considering whether to invite 100 or so of the audience up on stage. On the earlier nights of the current tour, the idea wasn't so good. In fact, there was $3,000 in equipment damages at their last stop. So the rap trio decided instead to invite up 10 men and 10 women.

When the eager fans started raising their hands, the bespectacled Posdnuos ruled out the whole thing. "This ain't about choosing," he said.

So they sang "Me, Myself and I," their biggest hit, all by themselves. And instead of getting everyone on stage, they agreed to hobnob with fans after the show.

The idea behind the invitation was to show that De La Soul aren't big-headed superstars. "We're just like you," Posdnuos pointed out. And in his Delaware State College hooded sweatshirt, he certainly looked like anyone else in the packed all-ages show.

Unlike the audience, though -- and most other rappers -- the young New York trio made their name by single-handedly taking rap in a different direction -- away from the relentless beats, gold chains and militancy to a quieter, wittier rap that draws on a broad number of unusual records to sample, a generally lighthearted approach to subject matter and a relaxed style in which to express themselves.

Because they originally dressed in paisley and talked about the Daisy Age, they were also labeled the first flower children of rap -- a bunch of hip-hop hippies, if you will.

That was all blown out of proportion as the trio's fame grew -- even as they were just turning 20. So they went to great lengths to explain that the Daisy stood for DA Inner Soul, y'all.

At any rate, you'd be hard pressed to find these subtleties in their live show, which apparently was making its Connecticut debut (after many canceled shows). Instead, it relied more on a forceful beat and an intense delivery from Pos, fellow rapper Trugoy (stuck with a bum mike) and third member Maseo, who doubled as deejay and rapper.

Unlike some rappers, who do their business to prerecorded efforts, everything about De La Soul was live, from the delivery to

the scratching on the turntable.

And the audience was only too happy to join in. While they concentrated on the latest, "De La Soul Is Dead," the three played only snippets of some earlier songs. The brief "Say No Go," though, was accompanied by dancers holding up signs, a la Dylan on "Subterranean Homesick Blues."

In the end, they allowed everybody up on stage who wanted to come, and nearly 100 did. They kept rapping, although they were almost out of sight and made their point of communal fun.

That's the same idea behind opening act Blind Justice, although their approach is relentless funk rock in the manner of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Lead singer Chris Keyes, who, like most of the other white guys in the band, was painted in different colors, jumped out into the audience and was held up by the hands of a small band of fans.